STAND DOWN!!

It seemed so real, I still can’t believe that it was a dream. I was in Washington and was sitting in the Situation Room with about 20 people. They represented the military, the CIA, the FBI, etc. I’m not sure why I was there; but no one seemed concerned, so I just stood quietly and listened.

There was turmoil in the room. People were bustling as one rarely sees government workers bustle. I quickly learned that there was a terrorist attack on our consulate building in Libya, in a town that was unfamiliar to me. “Our ambassador is under siege,” they were shouting!

I was standing behind a man who was looking, intently, at the wall of monitors. He was wearing shoes and naval trousers; but he was shirtless. I nudged a man in an air force uniform and nodded toward the shirtless man. The fellow understood my questioning moves and whispered:

“That’s Admiral Nimrick, the President’s favorite. He was showering when he was notified of the emergency session and didn’t take time to put on a shirt.”

Just then the admiral, who may have heard me whispering, turned to face me. His look was stern; but he said nothing. Then I noticed another peculiarity. The admiral still had all his medals, or his ‘fruit salad’, displayed. They were tattooed on his bare chest. ‘How novel’, I thought.

My nerves were rattled. A seemingly nonplussed British attaché noticed my anxiety and offered me tea. I thanked him and began sipping the steaming cup of Earl Gray.

I then noticed that the president wasn’t present. That only added to my anxiety. I asked the man in the air force uniform about the president’s absence.

“Oh, he’s been notified. He’s rushing here as we speak.”

My anxiety level subsided. The Commander-in-Chief was en route.

Suddenly, the door to the Situation Room opened. A couple of secret service men rushed into the room, followed by the Commander-in-Chief and six other people who were identified as presidential speech writers. All in the room applauded and cheered. The president responded as I had seen him respond to crowds on many occasions. He smiled and waved, occasionally pointing at someone. He reminded me of a British official who always has a riding crop under his arm. However, the president was carrying a golf club as he strutted into this crisis session. As the Commander-in-Chief took a seat, things quieted and the president asked his first probing questions. Officials gave him abrupt, formal replies.

“Ambassador Chris Stevens is in danger and pleading for help. Terrorists are breaching the Benghazi consulate!”

The president was quick and decisive. “I need your cap during this crisis, General,” he snapped, as he grabbed the hat of a four-star general.

The president, resplendent in his military hat, declared, “We’ll never abandon an ambassador! I want an immediate flyover by drones! Also, scramble all of our planes and our air corpse men in Italy for immediate response! We have troops on Cyprus? Get them onto the Libyan mainland as quickly as possible! Get some of our troops from Iraq and Afghanistan and get them to Libya as well! Also, whatever troops we have in England or Iceland should be deployed right now. Let the full Mediterranean fleet take positions off the Libyan coast, ready to give whatever support is possible! Our troops are thoroughly trained to be put into harm’s way and that’s what this crisis requires!”

“Mr. President,” a staffer shouted, “Come over here… we’ve just begun getting a live stream from our security cameras inside the consulate!”

The cluster of officials had hardly begun watching events on the cameras when the cameras suddenly darkened.

“The terrorists must have knocked them out!” Admiral Nimrick shouted.

“Well,” said the president, “our troops should be there within the hour.”

Everyone was nodding agreement.

“That last image wasn’t pleasant,” observed the Commander-in-Chief. “Who was that man being dragged away be terrorists?”

“That poor chap,” observed the Brit, wincing, “was the Ambassador!”

The President immediately jumped up! He became quite agitated.

“What do you mean?!”

He continued, without awaiting an answer.

“You mean that Christine Stevens isn’t a woman. You mean that she’s not a Black….?”

“Oh, no, Mr. President… you must be thinking of our ambassador to the United Nations! She’s a….”

The president threw his golf club toward the cameras that had shown the consulate under attack. He glared at his top officers.

“How do you fellows run our military when you can’t even get your facts straight… We almost started a terrible military incident with our Muslim friends in the Middle East.”

“But, Mr. President…,” a general objected, sheepishly.

“Don’t you ‘Mr. President’ me,” the president continued.

“NOW…STAND DOWN! STAND DOWN!” Get those troops back to their bases immediately!”

The Commander-in-Chief strutted around the room, walking from official to official and telling each one, distinctly,

“STAND DOWN! STAND DOWN! Our national security is at stake here!”

The president watched intently, while orders went out to call off every aggressive move that had been ordered. Soon, the room was quiet. The grave crisis that the president had recognized had been averted.

“Now, all of you are relieved for the night. Let’s close the Situation Room, since I was able to defuse an ugly situation. Take the night off. Oh…you may all reconvene over in the Oval Office, where you’ll be treated to a mug of my own home brew.”

As everyone began walking from the room, the president ordered a Secret Service member to retrieve his golf club. That’s when I saw the president glance at his watch. Turning toward his speech writers, he observed,

It seemed so real, I still can’t believe that it was a dream.I was in Washington and was sitting in the Situation Room with about 20 people.They represented the military, the CIA, the FBI, etc.I’m not sure why I was there; but no one seemed concerned, so I just stood quietly and listened.

There was turmoil in the room.People were bustling as one rarely sees government workers bustle.I quickly learned that there was a terrorist attack on our consulate building in Libya, in a town that was unfamiliar to me.“Our ambassador is under siege,” they were shouting!

I was standing behind a man who was looking, intently, at the wall of monitors.He was wearing shoes and naval trousers; but he was shirtless.I nudged a man in an air force uniform and nodded toward the shirtless man.The fellow understood my questioning moves and whispered:

“That’s Admiral Nimrick, the President’s favorite.He was showering when he was notified of the emergency session and didn’t take time to put on a shirt.”

Just then the admiral, who msy have heard me whispering, turned to face me.His look was stern; but he said nothing.Then I noticed another peculiarity.The admiral still had all his medals, or his ‘fruit salad’, displayed.They were tattooed on his bare chest.‘How novel’, I thought.

My nerves were rattled.A seemingly nonplussed British attaché noticed my anxiety and offered me tea.I thanked him and began sipping the steaming cup of Earl Gray.

I then noticed that the president wasn’t present. That only added to my anxiety.I asked the man in the air force uniform about the president’s absence.

“Oh, he’s been notified.He’s rushing here as we speak.”

My anxiety level subsided.The Commander-in-Chief was en route.

Suddenly, the door to the Situation Room opened.A couple of secret service men rushed into the room, followed by the Commander-in-Chief and six other people who were identified as presidential speech writers.All in the room applauded and cheered.The president responded as I had seen him respond to crowds on many occasions.He smiled and waved, occasionally pointing at someone.He reminded me of a British official who always has a riding crop under his arm.However, the president was carrying a golf club as he strutted into this crisis session.As the Commander-in-Chief took a seat, things quieted and the president asked his first probing questions.Officials gave him abrupt, formal replies.

“Ambassador Chris Stevens is in danger and pleading for help.Terrorists are breaching the Benghazi consulate!”

The president was quick and decisive.“I need your cap during this crisis, General,” he snapped, as he grabbed the hat of a four-star general.

The president, resplendent in his military hat, declared, “We’ll never abandon an ambassador!I want an immediate flyover by drones!Also, scramble all of our planes and our air corpse men in Italy for immediate response!We have troops on Cyprus?Get them onto the Libyan mainland as quickly as possible!Get some of our troops from Iraq and Afghanistan and get them to Libya as well!Also, whatever troops we have in England or Iceland should be deployed right now.Let the full Mediterranean fleet take positions off the Libyan coast, ready to give whatever support is possible!Our troops are thoroughly trained to be put into harm’s way and that’s what this crisis requires!”

“Mr. President,” a staffer shouted, “Come over here… we’ve just begun getting a live stream from our security cameras inside the consulate!”

The cluster of officials had hardly begun watching events on the cameras when the cameras suddenly darkened.

“The terrorists must have knocked them out!” Admiral Nimrick shouted.

“Well,” said the president, “our troops should be there within the hour.”

Everyone was nodding agreement.

“That last image wasn’t pleasant,” observed the Commander-in-Chief.“Who was that man being dragged away be terrorists?”

“That poor chap,” observed the Brit, wincing, “was the Ambassador!”

The President immediately jumped up!He became quite agitated.

“What do you mean?!”

He continued, without awaiting an answer.

“You mean that Christine Stevens isn’t a woman.You mean that she’s not a Black….?”

“Oh, no, Mr. President… you must be thinking of our ambassador to the United Nations!She’s a….”

The president threw his golf club toward the cameras that had shown the consulate under attack.He glared at his top officers.

“How do you fellows run our military when you can’t even get your facts straight…We almost started a terrible military incident with our Muslim friends in the Middle East.”

“But, Mr. President…,” a general objected, sheepishly.

“Don’t you ‘Mr. President’ me,” the president continued.

“NOW…STAND DOWN!STAND DOWN!”Get those troops back to their bases immediately!”

The Commander-in-Chief strutted around the room, walking from official to official and telling each one, distinctly,

“STAND DOWN!STAND DOWN!Our national security is at stake here!”

The president watched intently, while orders went out to call off every aggressive move that had been ordered.Soon, the room was quiet.The grave crisis that the president had recognized had been averted.

“Now, all of you are relieved for the night.Let’s close the Situation Room, since I was able to defuse an ugly situation.Take the night off.Oh…you may all reconvene over in the Oval Office, where you’ll be treated to a mug of my own home brew.”

As everyone began walking from the room, the president ordered a Secret Service member to retrieve his golf club.That’s when I saw the president glance at his watch.Turning toward his speech writers, he observed,

Guy Graybill

Guy Graybill, of Middleburg, (Snyder County) PA, is a graduate of
Gettysburg College, a retired teacher, former Republican county
commissioner and former GOP chairman in his county.

He and his wife, Nancy, are approaching their 60th wedding anniversary. They are the
parents of four children and a growing progeny.

He was listed in Who's Who in America in 2000 and 2001 ("For no reason that I would
know!). Since he retired, he has had five books published, including:
KEYSTONE (A state history), BRAVO! (the only book that declares that
the Italians did more for music than anyone else), PROHIBITION'S
PRINCE, the first of a two-volume biography of a millionaire
moonshiner/bootlegger and FROST! (2012), a book of 20 Russian folk
tales. Most of his works are available on Amazon.com, Kindle, etc.

He notes that one of his strongest concerns involves the increasing
incivility and dishonesty spewing from the liberal pundits.

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